Today is my last day of work for ten days. Thank God for working in a school and getting a full week for spring break. We're heading down to Arkansas to see my grandparents for a few days and then our most excellent friends Jon and Holly Neeley. Jon played guitar in Sequel to Adam with me and Holly designed all our merchant. They're also due to hav their first baby three weeks before we have number two. We're super stoked to see them. We're also interested to see how Eden does on the trip. We're splitting it into two 7 hour days. But she better get used to it; I was raised in the back seat of a minivan and I expect the same for my kids. Minus the minivan.
Side note: My whole life I thought South was up and North was down and I still get them confused pretty regularly. I suppose the logic was the the North had lower temperatures so it must be down further on the map. I still prefer to read maps with Texas on top. Not because I love Texas, oh no, not that at all.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Maintenance
My Achilles heel? Maintenance. This is a recent epiphany for me. Or maybe just the discovery of the word that best fits my most constant struggle. But it's come to a head in the last couple weeks with my attempts at an old habit: running.
I was blessed with a voracious metabolism. The only nickname I've ever acquired came from my sister when she started calling me Ribs sometime in junior high. Like any younger brother being called names it infuriated me, in part because she was teasing me and in part because she was right and I couldn't do anything about it. I could have eaten all day and night and never gained a pound. Long story short: not anymore. So I started running last week. It's been terrible. Any given day until I was 24 I could go out and run 3-4 miles. Nope. Not now. But the running's not even the worst. The worst is maintaining it. Maintaining my physical husk. Maintaining the energy and the memory to go out and do it. I'm not quite sure or the nature of this struggle, but I'm fairly certain I will always carry it with me.
Here are the things I hate to maintain, in no particular order:
Clean dishes
Clean clothes
Clean house
Teeth
Friendships
Personal hygiene
Church
Physical fitness
Yard
Dog's fitness
Pretty nasty list. And really it's longer I'm sure. I'm really only decent at maitaining a couple of things. Marriage and parenthood. And I think those are easy because for me they offer somethig different everyday. Unlike the dishes.
Maybe I need to start running different routes everyday.
I was blessed with a voracious metabolism. The only nickname I've ever acquired came from my sister when she started calling me Ribs sometime in junior high. Like any younger brother being called names it infuriated me, in part because she was teasing me and in part because she was right and I couldn't do anything about it. I could have eaten all day and night and never gained a pound. Long story short: not anymore. So I started running last week. It's been terrible. Any given day until I was 24 I could go out and run 3-4 miles. Nope. Not now. But the running's not even the worst. The worst is maintaining it. Maintaining my physical husk. Maintaining the energy and the memory to go out and do it. I'm not quite sure or the nature of this struggle, but I'm fairly certain I will always carry it with me.
Here are the things I hate to maintain, in no particular order:
Clean dishes
Clean clothes
Clean house
Teeth
Friendships
Personal hygiene
Church
Physical fitness
Yard
Dog's fitness
Pretty nasty list. And really it's longer I'm sure. I'm really only decent at maitaining a couple of things. Marriage and parenthood. And I think those are easy because for me they offer somethig different everyday. Unlike the dishes.
Maybe I need to start running different routes everyday.
Friday, March 19, 2010
iPod blog
This is my first blog via iPod. How's it going so far? I'm working on my networking skills and since the word net is in both network and Internet, I figure the Internet is the best place to start. Plus I don't leave my house very often. So here is blogging via iPod. What an incredible experience.
(Forgive me if this is a rather pedestrian post, lacking in my usual inspiration.)
Updates:
My first release unde the pseudonym The Great American Novel is nearing completion. I'm waiting on artwork an the hard copy of the recordings and then I will make it available via download. You'll be able to get it on iTunes at some point, but I'm hoping most people pick it up via cdbaby ad I get a better cut there. It's called Trees and contains five songs that mention trees in some way. It an organic, earthy, simple acoustic record and I hope everyone enjoys it.
My other update is that I've learned how to use iWeb and have designed my own website. www.thegreatamericannovel.net - go there and check it out and let me know how awesome it is. Also, I guess it would be nice to know where it is not awesome. It will continue to get updated in the next couple weeks and hopefully will be fully functional to coincide with the Trees EP. I'm quite the savvy businessman.
That's all for now. I plan to write soon about my aversion to maintenence. I'll sign off like I've started signing off everything, even though I feel like it doesn't mean anything at all.
Regards.
(Forgive me if this is a rather pedestrian post, lacking in my usual inspiration.)
Updates:
My first release unde the pseudonym The Great American Novel is nearing completion. I'm waiting on artwork an the hard copy of the recordings and then I will make it available via download. You'll be able to get it on iTunes at some point, but I'm hoping most people pick it up via cdbaby ad I get a better cut there. It's called Trees and contains five songs that mention trees in some way. It an organic, earthy, simple acoustic record and I hope everyone enjoys it.
My other update is that I've learned how to use iWeb and have designed my own website. www.thegreatamericannovel.net - go there and check it out and let me know how awesome it is. Also, I guess it would be nice to know where it is not awesome. It will continue to get updated in the next couple weeks and hopefully will be fully functional to coincide with the Trees EP. I'm quite the savvy businessman.
That's all for now. I plan to write soon about my aversion to maintenence. I'll sign off like I've started signing off everything, even though I feel like it doesn't mean anything at all.
Regards.
Friday, March 5, 2010
Published!
You can check out my short story, BLIZZARDS, in the new edition of Oeuvre Magazine at www.northlandartsmagazine.com. It's a small arts magazine out of Duluth, published only online, but it's really a beautiful publication. Check it out...
Monday, March 1, 2010
Raymond Carver writes my songs
I've been required to read like 30 books in my first two semesters of graduate school. Thinking about it now, it doesn't seem like such a huge number and I thank God everyday that none of them were textbooks. Of course, I didn't like all of them. And originally (I may have mentioned this in an earlier post) I did not like Ray Carver at all. I was asked to read "Where I'm Calling From", which is the most exhaustive volume of his short stories available. I think so anyway. It's nearly 550 pages of Carver shorts and it runs in chronological order. Anyway, I read the first few stories and I was put off completely. But the more time I spent with him, the more I enjoyed his stories.
INTERJECTION: I once told a most excellent friend of mine that we could never be best friends. I just didn't think it was in the cards. I think he took it as a challenge and it really wasn't too long after that I would tell him I was wrong. Which he thoroughly enjoyed. And still does. (I once told him I thought I was right 98% of the time, so any time I'm wrong, he enjoys it). I can't tell you what changed, other than we spent more time together and developed rapport and history and appreciation. And he's still one of my best friend. Anyway, I feel like Ray Carver and I have the same story, like we clashed upon first impression, but kept having to spend time with each other and now he's really one of my favorites.
If you've never read Carver, he's considered one of America's greatest short story writers. He came from a poor background and writes from a pretty blue collar perspective. Sometimes it seems like nothing happens in his stories. But most of the time his characters are broken and human and funny and charismatic and ridiculous and sad and lots of other adjectives. His stories sneak up on you and surprise you. They're beautiful, really. And, for the most part, mundane.
So there's Carver. And now me: I haven't written a song for six months, which I think is the longest drought I've had since I started writing songs 12 years ago. Now, I think that part of this is because I've been writing so much other stuff since my grad school started. And writing stories is different; you can write more for one thing. And I've fallen completely in love with stories. Which has led me to a minor worry that I'd never write another song again. I say minor because you can't worry too much about a thing like that. And because I wasn't sure if I'd miss it. But the worry grew and grew and grew, until (and you can ask my wife about this) I started mentioning it a few times a week. And then: Epiphany. I could co-write with Ray Carver. I was reading all these stories and they sung like songs to me and I thought it was only natural. So today I wrote my first song in six months. And I wrote it with Ray Carver. It's called Where I'm Calling From, just the same as the story it came from. You can find the story lots of places. For instance, the library. The lyrics I'll post right here:
Me and J.P. and Tiny make three
Down at Frank Martin's place
On the front porch, smoking outdoors
Propping up our feet
J.P.'s got this story he's trying to tell
But he's shaking and shaking and shaking like hell
And I know what you'd say
If you saw me this way
Where I'm calling from
Honey, you don't wanna know
This morning at chow Tiny's talking about how
He can call ducks down
Then ain't there, he's gone back in his chair
Seizing hard on the ground
And that's how it goes when you try to get clean
Always nicking your chin while you're shaving
But I don't mean to complain
I got only me to blame
Where I'm calling from
You don't wanna be
J.P.'s telling stories about life before drink
How he had him a wife and job as a chimney sweep
And now all he's got is this soot on his hands
And a burnt stack of plans
And some hope for a second chance
But where I'm calling from
Honey, you already know
INTERJECTION: I once told a most excellent friend of mine that we could never be best friends. I just didn't think it was in the cards. I think he took it as a challenge and it really wasn't too long after that I would tell him I was wrong. Which he thoroughly enjoyed. And still does. (I once told him I thought I was right 98% of the time, so any time I'm wrong, he enjoys it). I can't tell you what changed, other than we spent more time together and developed rapport and history and appreciation. And he's still one of my best friend. Anyway, I feel like Ray Carver and I have the same story, like we clashed upon first impression, but kept having to spend time with each other and now he's really one of my favorites.
If you've never read Carver, he's considered one of America's greatest short story writers. He came from a poor background and writes from a pretty blue collar perspective. Sometimes it seems like nothing happens in his stories. But most of the time his characters are broken and human and funny and charismatic and ridiculous and sad and lots of other adjectives. His stories sneak up on you and surprise you. They're beautiful, really. And, for the most part, mundane.
So there's Carver. And now me: I haven't written a song for six months, which I think is the longest drought I've had since I started writing songs 12 years ago. Now, I think that part of this is because I've been writing so much other stuff since my grad school started. And writing stories is different; you can write more for one thing. And I've fallen completely in love with stories. Which has led me to a minor worry that I'd never write another song again. I say minor because you can't worry too much about a thing like that. And because I wasn't sure if I'd miss it. But the worry grew and grew and grew, until (and you can ask my wife about this) I started mentioning it a few times a week. And then: Epiphany. I could co-write with Ray Carver. I was reading all these stories and they sung like songs to me and I thought it was only natural. So today I wrote my first song in six months. And I wrote it with Ray Carver. It's called Where I'm Calling From, just the same as the story it came from. You can find the story lots of places. For instance, the library. The lyrics I'll post right here:
Me and J.P. and Tiny make three
Down at Frank Martin's place
On the front porch, smoking outdoors
Propping up our feet
J.P.'s got this story he's trying to tell
But he's shaking and shaking and shaking like hell
And I know what you'd say
If you saw me this way
Where I'm calling from
Honey, you don't wanna know
This morning at chow Tiny's talking about how
He can call ducks down
Then ain't there, he's gone back in his chair
Seizing hard on the ground
And that's how it goes when you try to get clean
Always nicking your chin while you're shaving
But I don't mean to complain
I got only me to blame
Where I'm calling from
You don't wanna be
J.P.'s telling stories about life before drink
How he had him a wife and job as a chimney sweep
And now all he's got is this soot on his hands
And a burnt stack of plans
And some hope for a second chance
But where I'm calling from
Honey, you already know
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